Weft of Power, Warp of Blood: A Tapestry of Desire
folder
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
70
Views:
12,169
Reviews:
71
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
70
Views:
12,169
Reviews:
71
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
1
Disclaimer:
Anti-Litigation Charm: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story, though wish I did. The only money I have goes toward good wine and chocolate. You can't
Wormtail and his Master
Chapter Five
Wormtail and his Master
“Crucio!”
Wormtail fell to the ground, in a spasm of pain. His arms and legs twitched violently held out as if they were on invisible wires. A tortured shriek split the air. It was a drawn out note of agony that lifted his arms and legs into the air, fingers curled into claws. The wand pointing at him lowered and he dropped to the floor, muscles still twitching. He lay there for several minutes; the only sound in the room was his whimpering and the brush of his rough robes against the wool rug.
“Get up, Wormtail.” The commanding voice was high-pitched and cold. The short sniveling man struggled to his knees but fell to all fours. Tears of anguished misery slid freely down his cheeks. His nose ran and was mopped up by rubbing his face over his shoulder. The wet streak was dark on the faded, shabby brown robes he wore.
“Master, I’m sorry, I…”
He was interrupted by the voice from behind the chair saying frigidly, “I am deeply disappointed in you, Peter. I expected better from you, especially after the unfortunate failure with Mr. Crouch.”
“Master, your servant begs, please - please give me another chance to get the woman. I swear I will not fail you again,” Wormtail whined, residual pain still rocketing through his pudgy body.
“Come here, where I can see you, Wormtail. I want to look at you when you retell me how it came that you failed me again.”
Miles away, Harry Potter clenched his hands into the sheet under his pillow. His breathing, once deep and even in sleep, was becoming labored. He rolled to his back, then again to his side, still asleep, dreaming of Voldemort.
“Master, please, I waited as you commanded, for them to walk beyond the fence, but only the child did.”
“The child is of no concern to me. Why did you not kill it? I only want the woman.” The voice behind the chair interrupted again.
“Yes, Master, I know, but I thought….” Peter protested.
“I do not keep you alive to think, Wormtail. I only keep you alive to do my bidding. So far, you have yet to manage very much.” The voice grew even colder.
“Master, please…I…I followed the child. I assumed that the woman would follow. She…she stayed behind the fence. I could not get to her, the magic protecting her home is too strong.” The voice behind the chair stayed silent, waiting. “I... I… when the child climbed up on a rock, my Lord, I used your wand to shatter it. The child screamed and fell and the woman ran to her, but…” Wormtail’s voice failed him. He lowered his head, revealing a bald spot in his limp, dull hair.
“Speak,” was the hissed command.
“There was a dog. It ran down the mountain to save the child and then it saved the woman from the rock fall,” Wormtail said in a panicked tone.
“Your rockslide injured the woman?” The words were whispered.
Wormtail trembled. “Yes, I mean, no, I mean, I would have captured her before she was injured, my Master. I would not have let the woman get hurt. I know what she means to you, Master. Please…” Wormtail readied himself to curl into a protective ball. After a moment’s silence, he peeked up again but flinched at the sight. “It was Padfoot, I mean Sirius… Black. I have seen him transform so many times, I know it was him.”
The voice inquired mildly, “What was he doing there?”
“I don’t know,” whispered Pettigrew.
“Why did you not kill him, Wormtail? You had my wand.”
“Master, he’s too strong, my Lord. He would have killed me first. I could not let that happen. I…I… I know that you need this worm’s services too much. I came back to you. I swear, though, I swear that I will get the woman for you, my Lord, please.” The small speech ended on an oily whimper.
“You will get me the woman, Wormtail, when I am whole again. I will have sons out of Albus Dumbledore’s great-granddaughter. She is strong and intelligent, and young enough to breed well. She is beautiful and even if she isn’t as powerful as the rest of the family, she’ll still be stronger than half of the other heifers available just because she’s related to Dumbledore.”
Pettigrew thought of mentioning that she was as much a Swan and Finnerty as she was Dumbledore, and that getting to her would be more difficult than breaking into the Ministry of Magic, but thought better of it.
Voldemort cackled, “The loss of her will cripple the old fool as well as test the other. I will breed sons out of Jasmine Swan. They will be the most powerful wizards in the world and they will rule at my side!”
Harry moaned in his sleep, his heart pounding at the nightmare. His scar burned as it always did when he dreamed of Voldemort, yet he did not wake. In the morning, he would awake with a strange feeling of disquiet, but would not remember the dreams that haunted him.
Wormtail and his Master
“Crucio!”
Wormtail fell to the ground, in a spasm of pain. His arms and legs twitched violently held out as if they were on invisible wires. A tortured shriek split the air. It was a drawn out note of agony that lifted his arms and legs into the air, fingers curled into claws. The wand pointing at him lowered and he dropped to the floor, muscles still twitching. He lay there for several minutes; the only sound in the room was his whimpering and the brush of his rough robes against the wool rug.
“Get up, Wormtail.” The commanding voice was high-pitched and cold. The short sniveling man struggled to his knees but fell to all fours. Tears of anguished misery slid freely down his cheeks. His nose ran and was mopped up by rubbing his face over his shoulder. The wet streak was dark on the faded, shabby brown robes he wore.
“Master, I’m sorry, I…”
He was interrupted by the voice from behind the chair saying frigidly, “I am deeply disappointed in you, Peter. I expected better from you, especially after the unfortunate failure with Mr. Crouch.”
“Master, your servant begs, please - please give me another chance to get the woman. I swear I will not fail you again,” Wormtail whined, residual pain still rocketing through his pudgy body.
“Come here, where I can see you, Wormtail. I want to look at you when you retell me how it came that you failed me again.”
Miles away, Harry Potter clenched his hands into the sheet under his pillow. His breathing, once deep and even in sleep, was becoming labored. He rolled to his back, then again to his side, still asleep, dreaming of Voldemort.
“Master, please, I waited as you commanded, for them to walk beyond the fence, but only the child did.”
“The child is of no concern to me. Why did you not kill it? I only want the woman.” The voice behind the chair interrupted again.
“Yes, Master, I know, but I thought….” Peter protested.
“I do not keep you alive to think, Wormtail. I only keep you alive to do my bidding. So far, you have yet to manage very much.” The voice grew even colder.
“Master, please…I…I followed the child. I assumed that the woman would follow. She…she stayed behind the fence. I could not get to her, the magic protecting her home is too strong.” The voice behind the chair stayed silent, waiting. “I... I… when the child climbed up on a rock, my Lord, I used your wand to shatter it. The child screamed and fell and the woman ran to her, but…” Wormtail’s voice failed him. He lowered his head, revealing a bald spot in his limp, dull hair.
“Speak,” was the hissed command.
“There was a dog. It ran down the mountain to save the child and then it saved the woman from the rock fall,” Wormtail said in a panicked tone.
“Your rockslide injured the woman?” The words were whispered.
Wormtail trembled. “Yes, I mean, no, I mean, I would have captured her before she was injured, my Master. I would not have let the woman get hurt. I know what she means to you, Master. Please…” Wormtail readied himself to curl into a protective ball. After a moment’s silence, he peeked up again but flinched at the sight. “It was Padfoot, I mean Sirius… Black. I have seen him transform so many times, I know it was him.”
The voice inquired mildly, “What was he doing there?”
“I don’t know,” whispered Pettigrew.
“Why did you not kill him, Wormtail? You had my wand.”
“Master, he’s too strong, my Lord. He would have killed me first. I could not let that happen. I…I… I know that you need this worm’s services too much. I came back to you. I swear, though, I swear that I will get the woman for you, my Lord, please.” The small speech ended on an oily whimper.
“You will get me the woman, Wormtail, when I am whole again. I will have sons out of Albus Dumbledore’s great-granddaughter. She is strong and intelligent, and young enough to breed well. She is beautiful and even if she isn’t as powerful as the rest of the family, she’ll still be stronger than half of the other heifers available just because she’s related to Dumbledore.”
Pettigrew thought of mentioning that she was as much a Swan and Finnerty as she was Dumbledore, and that getting to her would be more difficult than breaking into the Ministry of Magic, but thought better of it.
Voldemort cackled, “The loss of her will cripple the old fool as well as test the other. I will breed sons out of Jasmine Swan. They will be the most powerful wizards in the world and they will rule at my side!”
Harry moaned in his sleep, his heart pounding at the nightmare. His scar burned as it always did when he dreamed of Voldemort, yet he did not wake. In the morning, he would awake with a strange feeling of disquiet, but would not remember the dreams that haunted him.